


Adjustments

by timetosin



Category: Wolf 359 (Radio)
Genre: Adultery, Angst, F/F, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Canon, Post-Hephaestus, doug hera and minkowski centric, everyone is adjusting to life on earth kinda poorly but they are a family and together, everyone is sad, minffel, minffel more in second part, minffel pinning, some mentions of things happening between canon episodes, spoilers from finale, survivors club
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-06 02:52:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16823665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timetosin/pseuds/timetosin
Summary: The survivors club have returned to earth and must live with the consequences of their time in the stars. Hera, Eiffel, and Minkowski figure out who they are in relation to one another, those around them, and themselves. The survivors club grieves their losses and Eiffel and Minkowski create new memories together. ((Minffel Centric))"Here, home back on earth, the little survivors club ate dinner together as a family, laughed and talked immensely, and when Hera insisted played the questions game until they screamed.Yes, things were by far much better on earth for everyone, despite the sadness.Regardless, Hera missed the hectic abyss and the star systems, she missed the time of their lives that brought them all together."





	Adjustments

Hera missed the Hephaestus.

She missed feeling infinite, omnipotent, and most of all in control. On the Hephaestus, there were millions of wires and circuit endings to watch over, a crew to mother over, the lingering presence of Alana Maxwell. There were unspoken ghosts pressing into the ships hull and sleek metallic walls, Hera was never alone.

She was the mother program, she had a purpose, she was necessary.

Now, in this domestic earth bounded bliss she served no true purpose, she was just another novelty Artificial Intelligence system hooked up to Minkowski’s smart home system. In essence, she was a glorified Siri or Alexa and she found herself hating this boredom.

On the Hephaestus Hera could peer in on anyone she liked, she could still do that if she truly wanted but the desire had slipped away when watching led to discoveries she would rather forget.

In this large expensive home funded by a lawsuit led by Jacobi and Lovelace, Hera avoided peering in rooms in fear of finding Minkowski alone and letting out a ragged sob curled in bed.

Mr. Koudelka had never returned to this home with her, in fact as far as Hera knew the couple had attempted but something didn’t click. She assumed Minkowski despite her strength, couldn’t keep the marriage together after the trauma, after the exposure, after the taste of something beyond.

Sometimes Hera felt it had something to do with Eiffel as well. 

She would rather not see Lovelace cough her lungs out and grimace when pulling her hand back to find black gunk instead of humanoid red blood. Her surrogate form was taking longer than expected to adjust to earth’s conditions, Hera would rather hear about it when addressed.

Hera did not enjoy seeing Jacobi drink scotch, or obsessively scrounge the internet for the kind Kepler drank, or tousle around in bed with muscled men folk before muttering “Warren” and spooking them off. She especially hated when he would look in the mirror and talk to himself as if he were still talking to Alana. Hera would rather not remember Alana, whose fingers rewired and betrayed her, or how soft Alana’s lips looked, or how the star’s glow reflected white off Alana’s blonde strands creating a halo effect and making Hera wish she could touch her _everywhere_.

The only person she still enjoyed to peep on was Eiffel.

Watching Doug had become bittersweet though, while he was still gentle and obnoxious, this Doug was a whisper of his predecessor.

Doug was a void compared to the magnificent fucked up planet of his past self. Regardless it was nice to see the lanky man spread out on the couch and rediscovering his love of pop culture, twirl a cigarette in his hands, and play with a tube of toothpaste. Eiffel had always been and would continue to be her closest companion, together they cooked or more so Eiffel burned, she would tell him stories of their adventures, they would laugh.

Overall, not everything was bad.

In fact, things were going rather well, no more life-threatening situations as far as Hera knew, everyone was together and well, there was time to heal.

Here, home back on earth, the little survivors club ate dinner together as a family, laughed and talked immensely, and when Hera insisted played the questions game until they screamed.

Yes, things were by far much better on earth for everyone, despite the sadness.

Regardless, Hera missed the hectic abyss and the star systems, she missed the time of their lives that brought them all together.

* * *

Gravity was no match for Renee Minkowski when she was sprinting.

When she ran her mind was blank, she was powerful and perfect, she was the 99.9% on the flight exams. Running reminded her that yes, she had been the commander, she was still Minkowski, she harpooned evil assholes and plant monsters without hesitation.

As she trudged uphill or crossed expansive distances on her still-intact limbs, she was good enough, she was just as thin and sensual as the new Mrs. Koudelka, and she had never walked in on her estranged husband to remind him she, in fact, wasn’t dead as he plowed into some stupid fucking French blonde.

During her runs she was fantasy, she had not questioned if she still loved him as they lay in bed a week after she returned, she had patched up their marriage and explained why she broke into tears when she drank coffee freshly out the pot.

She would have introduced Eiffel properly, she wouldn’t have laid in Dominik’s arms and thought of Doug, she didn’t call him _Doug_ when she ran.

With strategic hissed exhales between her teeth, Minkowski released pent up emotions and dreams as she finished her seventh mile. The watch on her wrist chirped excitedly as she rounded the corner of the sidewalk and slowed to a jog, the interface binged with the change of the hour to eleven at night. Minkowski preferred to run at night, the stars calmed her more than she liked to admit and no one bothered her when she disappeared down a trail surrounded by trees rather than people at the ever-growing gym.

Upon returning to earth, she felt most comfortable abiding by Lovelace’s motto of going where no one knows who you are and being isolated.

Walking up the driveway and hopping up the steps into the modern glass paned house, Minkowski let out one last slow breath and pressed her watch against the door's code reader. Hera beeped back to her allowing her entrance and the two shared a greeting.

“Hello Commander-I mean Renee, did you enjoy your run?”

Stepping inside and rolling her neck, Minkowski took a moment before replying.

“Yeah, it was a good one, anything happen while I was out?”

Hera’s jingling mechanical laugh peppered the air around Minkowski and she smiled in response.

“No, no malfunctions yet! Everyone is currently in the kitchen if you’re ready to join them.”

Minkowski nodded and began stripping the jacket from her sweaty arms. As she hung the jacket up and peered in the hallway mirror feeling as she mentally had aged out of the young body staring back at her, Hera spoke again.

“Renee…”

Minkowski suddenly noticed how deep her frown had become, she hadn’t even realized her face was deep set in a frown in the first place and righted her expression to neutral.

“Yeah, Hera…”

Hera seemed to stall for a moment, the silence between them was not uncomfortable but had recently found its way into their interactions as an unwelcome shadow over them. It always felt as Hera was wanting to say something as if all her sentences ended with ellipses instead of periods.

“I’m here if you ever want to talk. You know about anything…and I can keep it between us.”

Anything translated to _Dominik, and I’ve seen you sobbing in your room at night when you pretend no one can hear you, and the past we have shared that no one else will understand_ , Minkowski knew this.

Minkowski tore her eyes away from the figure in the mirror with her high military regulated high ponytail and dark-ringed eyes.

“Thank you, Hera.”

Hera pretended to not hear her voice crack at the end.

* * *

_The New Doug Eiffel_.

When his comrades say the phrase he feels entirely lost, he has no true memory of a past version of anything, so how can there be a new version of something that never existed. Doug wonders at times if he is the butt end of a joke if he will ever measure up to this mythical Eiffel if he can ever be as quirky and natural as this other man.

Doug Eiffel seemed like he was one big dickhead who was pretty selfish and self-serving, yet all the people in this home seemed to love and miss him.

Naturally, he felt affinity and kinship towards the others in the house as well.

They shared a connection, a history, a faded polaroid in Wolf 359 that sunk into his conscious without much effort.

Emotions were easy to uncover as well, despite the fact they tore his mind to smithereens the emotional memories in his amygdala would resurface and re-ground him. Emotional memories rushed over him mainly when he listened to old recordings of himself or to the others telling him about the past. It was funny how his job as communications officer was to talk for hours, as the recordings verified, but now it seemed all he did was listen and listen trying to absorb as much information as he possibly can.

While Doug had become more comfortable with talking somedays, he felt like an imposter in his own skin, during days like this he would spend time with Hera or Lovelace. These two seemed to be the only other people who truly understood the dissociated feeling as well. Hera, now uploaded her immense consciousness fit for a space vessel in an interface quite opposite of the Hephaestus and Lovelace an actual surrogate in a body that mirrored someone from the past. Lovelace and him had many similarities but she still had memories and establishment, despite his attempts not to sometimes he envied her.

Eiffel often envied Lovelace for other reasons as well, in particular when it came to Renee.

The two women shared a close friendship, one made of mutual respect and almost constant communication. During dinner, they often sat near one another and laughed heartily together, at things he said, or even as he perceived at him. As far as anyone could see they seemed to just be wonderful friends but Eiffel noticed how Lovelace would peer at Minkowski with something deeper, something Minkowski’s expression didn’t, the kind of lingering look that Han Solo peered at Leia with. And his stomach would churn with a jealousy he couldn’t discern a reason for, from all knowledge from recordings and Hera he knew Minkowski had been married and the two in the past shared no intimate relationship.

Yet, even when he had woken up a blank slate, he always felt an attraction to his commanding officer.

One of his first memories after waking up was Renee Minkowski.

His vision had been blurry, he blinked rapidly and noticed the pressure of a hand wrapped around his shoulder. A woman with tear-filled eyes was hovering over him, her lower lip quivered, her cheek was smudged with soot and bruised. Whether now was the moment to notice it or not he noted that she was beautiful, not in a Hollywood airbrushed manner, but beautiful with her large pointed nose and dark eyes nonetheless.

When she introduced herself, he emphasized her name correctly, and the echo of her name seemed to make her wince as if in pain by hearing him say it.

Doug held onto this memory, felt whatever attraction or crush on Renee simmer and roar back to life recording after recording. Following the lead of his past self he never attempted to act on this feeling or bring it to light, there must have been more reasons than just Dominik Koudelka that the old Eiffel never moved on Minkowski, he also settled on the knowledge Doug Eiffel was not someone adequate for a woman like Renee.

Doug brought himself back to the moment as Jacobi was shoving a plate into his hands.

“Hey, earth to Eiffel. Hurry up and take your share.”

Eiffel scoffed and the two shared a quick back and forth before he moved towards the stove and served himself. Lovelace was already sitting at the table shoveling a spoonful into her mouth while furiously typing on a laptop as Eiffel sat beside her catching a glimpse of her screen along with the words Goddard.

Jacobi slid into his seat as well as Minkowski entered serving herself as well before sitting as well. 

A chatter began among them, Hera joining in as well.

Doug reminisced on how the “old” Doug Eiffel would probably not want his life to be any other way, at least he could do that version of himself justice.

* * *

Star Trek, Star Wars, Star Gate, Star Runners, Star Quest.

Producers of sci-fi space movies and shows seemed to be almost dependent on the word star to establish yes, this happens in space. Doug’s brows had almost touched his hairline when Jacobi described how many pop culture references he had used on a regular basis and how much time watching these movies would take. His joy sitting in front of the tv never ran dry though, he found himself always excited to sit and plow through an episode.

Currently, around one in the morning in the quiet home except for the humming of the air conditioner and the faint sound of Hera and Lovelace’s voice down the hall, Eiffel munched on popcorn and listened to captain Kirk heroically command his crew.

Doug’s eyes flicked over the title of the next episode as the previous one faded away.

 _Plato’s Stepchildren_.

He smiled when Uhura appeared on screen, she was an attractive lady and a great communications officer as far as he could tell. Hera chided him quite often when they watched star trek together to put his tongue back in his mouth when Uhura was on screen. Minkowski had told him that when they first met before their mission at the Goddard Futuristic headquarters, he referenced that he was the Uhura to her Kirk.

The soft padding of bare feet on tile caused Eiffel to turn around, Renee stood in the doorway with her arms crossed in a modest pajama set.

“Mind if I watch with you?”

Doug’s face broke into a grin.

“Not at all Commander, it just started too.”

Renee smiled, Eiffel had noticed she seemed more open with him if he called her commander and reserved Renee for when things were important. On the opposing side of the couch, Renee settled in and the two watched the flashing colors on the screen accompanied by the cheesiest sound effects known to anyone in the late 21st century.

The crew of the enterprise ship now dressed in Grecian garb, face issue after issue as can be expected and Renee reaches her hand into the bowl of popcorn. Almost choking when on screen Captain Kirk holds Uhura in a more than friendly embrace and the music swells as their lips in fact come into contact.

Both Doug and Renee fall silent.

“Commander, do you remember how you told me I had said I was the Uhura to your Kirk?”

Renee swallows the popcorn in her mouth, feeling it go down like sand.

“Yeah…”

Eiffel feels his cheeks heat up, his brain yells at him to shut the fuck up but the words are already spilling from his mouth. The burning desire to know the past that isn’t conveniently recorded that maybe aligns with those strange pre-existing feelings is too strong to ignore.

“Did we ever kiss?”

Doug immediately fills the silence expected for an answer with nervous ramblings.

“Shit, fuck, shit n-never mind Renee-I mean Commander. I d-didn’t mean to ask that, I know you’re b-busy and much too good for me and you-you’d never kiss some idiot like me even eight lightyears away.”

The color from the tv highlighted Minkowski’s cheek turning her face into a series of shadows and pretty curves and angles, which looked eerily familiar to Eiffel as words continued to spill from his anxious lips. He attempted desperately to change the subject but he knew he had failed like he did at most things when she held up one authoritative hand.

She spoke slowly, like she was carefully picking out each word from a preselected controlled pool.

“Yes, once.”

Eiffel’s ramblings paused and he sputtered.

“W-What…”

Renee’s mouth was pressed in a straight line as she simply nodded in response, she stared at her ex communications officer refusing to spill anymore information. Their eyes met and Doug’s brows furled as Renee’s expression slowly softened and her dark judgmental pupils met his. Her eyes searched his for some sort of recognition although she knew damn well there would be none.

His eyes flickered to her rising and falling chest as Renee sighed.

The screen faded to black as she began speaking softly as if sharing a secret during a funeral and Doug had to crane forward to hear her clearly.

“It was after you returned from deep space…after I thought I had lost you forever. You had been back a few days, Kepler was ordering us around but for an hour I managed to visit you in the communications room. I had looked at you very hard for a long time before you smiled and you made some stupid reference to some goddamned movie. For some reason seeing you floating there and grinning made me sad? So, I hugged you to make sure you were solid and alive…and I kissed you.”

She took a breath.

“I kissed you once, it was brief. We both agreed to never speak about it again.”

When the screen fills the room with color and sound once more, Renee can see his face again. Doug peers back at her silently for once in his life, their noses are close and almost touching, and he holds eye contact with her.

“Would you ever consider kissing me again, Renee?”

Minkowski nods once before leaning forward to brush her own lips against Eiffel’s slightly parted ones.

Maybe he was the real Doug after all.


End file.
